


Frozen: Winter Wolf

by PensiveManiac



Series: Fandom Fairy Tales [1]
Category: Frozen (2013), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, BAMF Sheriff Stilinski, Brotherly Love, Emotional Constipation, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fractured Fairy Tale, M/M, True Love, Underage Kissing, and only a kiss, but only technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:02:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2001339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PensiveManiac/pseuds/PensiveManiac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott suddenly develops powers of ice and snow, freezing Beacon Hills. His adoptive brother Stiles sets off with Derek to stop the winter, only for Stiles to be struck, freezing his heart. Can Stiles get an act of True Love before he freezes and dies? Do you already know the answer because you saw the movie? </p><p>Starring: Scott McCall as Elsa, Stiles Stilinski as Anna, Derek Hale as Kristof, Lydia Martin as Hans, Jackson Whittemore as Olaf, Allison and Isaac as Marshmallow, Deaton as Granpappy Troll, and Sheriff Stilinski as an off-screen BAMF.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frozen: Winter Wolf

Frozen: The Winter Wolf

“I told you, Stiles, I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to see anyone. I can’t explain. I just... just leave me alone.” Scott’s voice broke as he told his best friend the very words that he’d feared hearing for so long. Ever since Scott formed his new pack, spending all his time with Isaac and Allison, Stiles had felt estranged, left out of his former brother’s life. 

Stiles sighed as he realized Scott had hung up before he could respond. “What did I ever do to you, Scott?” he asked the empty room. He stared out his window, the very window that had always seemed a sort of doorway to the werewolf world, especially considering how often both Derek and Scott had used it to come in his room. At first he wondered if he was crying and tears were blurring his vision. But despite how terrible he felt about where he and Scott were right now, he was too stubborn to cry over something like this, not when there were bigger problems he’d faced without flinching. No, he was not crying, and his eyes were clear, but that didn’t explain why during a California summer, he was seeing snow. 

Fat flakes fell outside his window, and with a jolt he realized that the chill in his room was not the air conditioner (it had been turned off in the unseasonable coolness). It was getting cold enough that he was seriously considering putting on his hoodie. And this in July. What was going on?

Stiles’s hand was on his phone, when the snowfall outside his window was pierced with a pair of ice blue lights. Grinning, he spun his desk chair to face the window. “I was just about to call you,” he laughed, “but I guess you came to the same conclusion. Something’s up in Beacon Hills.”

“It’s frozen out there.” Derek’s voice was lower that usual, pitched with worry. His leather jacket was dusted with snow and there was ice keeping the gel in his hair company. “We need to tell Scott. He’s alpha now.”

“Well, I hope he’s taking your calls, because he’s ignoring mine. I have no idea what’s going on with him...” His voiced trailed off as he realized. “I ran into the phrase ‘winter wolf’ in my research. Is it what I think it is?”

Derek’s eyes widened. “That can’t be... he can’t be.. they’re myth... damn. He’s a fucking Winter Wolf.”

“What are they, exactly? I mean the book they appeared in was one step away from a DND manual. It was filled with boggarts and trolls and pooka... they can’t all be real, right?” Stiles’s voice was blatantly pleading, as though he were less looking for confirmation and more praying to be right. 

“Pretty much, in various forms and amount of activity, but Winter Wolves are rare. Then again, so are True Alphas. A Winter Wolf is a werewolf with a sort of magical tie to ice and cold. They’re said to be avatars of Fenris, the great wolf who’ll eat the Sun and Moon at Ragnarok. I’ve heard legends of their breath freezing villages and their roars carrying the frost, but I figured it was all werewolf fairy tales. I didn’t expect to meet one any more than you’d expect to run into magic beans or bridge trolls.” Derek sighed, taking in the questions on Stiles’s face. “Yes, both are real, but neither’s like the stories.”

“So, we think Scott’s a Winter Wolf. And now he’s frozen Beacon Hills. We’ve got to go talk to him, get him to thaw the town. How strong are these things said to be? I mean will the magic spread?” Stiles was running calculations and trying to remember any spell or rituals involving ice, snow, or the removal thereof that he’d read in his studies.

“I have no idea. According to legend, a Winter Wolf could freeze the world and bring on Fimbulvetr, which is the endless winter leading to Ragnarok. Since I didn’t believe Winter Wolves existed, I hardly believed that. But who knows anymore.” Derek sighed, “I almost miss when he was just dating an Argent.”

Stiles laughed in Derek’s face. “Remember that. We’ll tell him when we see him. Maybe Allison can thaw him out.” His grin grew as he considered that. “Hell, if she’s not interested, maybe Isaac will take one for the team. I don’t know anyone who could think cold thoughts when faced with one or both of them trying to get things heated up.”

“Wait, Isaac?”

“Really, you didn’t see that one coming? After he told you about how he, Jackson and Erica danced at the rave? And after he started following Scott around like the oversized puppy he is?” He laughed cynically. “You need to start using those overhyped senses of yours a little more.” Sliding on his sweatshirt and raising his hood, he slid a jacket over it. “Let’s go bring back summer.”

\---

“Go away, Stiles, I told you, I want to be alone. I don’t want to hurt anyone, and you’re better off without me.”

“Really, Scott? You’re going to pull this on me? Nice try, bro, but I’m the one who dragged you into the woods to get bitten, I’m the one who went to the wall against Jackson and Gerard for you, I’m the one who stayed beside you against the alpha pack. You’re my brother, I love you, and I swear to God if you don’t open this door I’ll have Derek break it down.” He smirked at Derek for a moment. “Man, I’ve wanted to be on this side to use this line for ages. I’ll huff, and I’ll puff...”

“Three little pigs. Really?” Derek grumbled. “Can’t you at least go for little red riding hood?”

“Hey, I’m little red, Bigby, and apparently Scott’s the Snow Queen, so can we focus?”

“Sure, why not, it’s not like you want me to break down the door of a werewolf who knows about Mountain Ash and has a live in human mother who can make said barrier.” Green eyes rolled. “Can’t we skip the verbal sparring and get out of the cold? I didn’t move to California because I liked ice, you know. That’s why you leave New York. Winter.”

“And here I thought it was us that kept you here,” Stiles snarked. “And meanwhile it’s all for the weather.”

“Exactly,” Derek said drily, “Now, are you listening, Scott? Let me in, NOW!”

The door opened. “Just go away. I don’t want to hurt you.” Scott looked... strange. His hair was going white, like he’d aged 30 years in the space of a few days, but his face was unlined. His eyes, always so dark and so evident of his Mexican heritage, had lightened to now be as blue as Derek’s wolf eyes. Even his skin had lost some latino tan and was now paler than Stiles. Stiles couldn’t help but think of Jack Frost from that CGI movie, who went from all lively brown color to whites and blues after he’d died. He hoped that Scott hadn’t gone through a similar level of trouble.

“Scott, you’re not alone here. I love you, bro, and after how well you mastered handling your wolf, I can’t imagine this is beyond you. You can bring back summer. Just let us help you.” Stiles reached towards his adoptive brother and flinched as Scott’s eyes blazed red for a moment before returning to a brilliant blue, now burning brighter than before. He started to head toward his room but Stiles got between him and the room. “Don’t shut the door on me again, Scott. We want to help!”

“You can’t help me! You can’t do anything! I didn’t want to hurt you! Go AWAY!” Derek reached for Stiles but it was too late to get him out of the way of the icy blue light which burst out of Scott slamming into Stiles at chest level and knocking him to the ground. “I told you, I didn’t want to do this,” Scott said, then raised his voice, “ISAAC, ALLISON!” The two appeared, Allison looking terrified while Isaac looked resigned, the same look on his face now that he’d had when Derek met him. The look of a beaten child. “Get rid of these two, and leave. Do not return unless I call you.” Scott’s eyes turned bright red and the command of the Alpha was so strong that Derek almost left himself. Only the thought of Stiles lying on the floor kept him from running. It didn’t keep Isaac from picking Stiles up, or Allison from pulling out a cattle prod from her belt, turning to brandish it at him. 

Derek growled but allowed him and Stiles to be shepherded out. “Scott, this isn’t over. I’ll heal him, Deaton will know what to do. We’ll fix this. We’ll be back.” 

“Just go.”

Derek went. He took Stiles from Isaac and carried him away. 

\---

“This is an old magic, an old story. There’s only one thing that can fix a curse like this.” Deaton, contrary to Derek’s experience with him, looked almost shy. “You have to understand, the curse froze his heart. He has to thaw that ice. Only true love can do that.” 

“Lydia? If there’s anyone that Stiles loves truly, it’s Lydia. And she’s been warming to him more and more.” Derek bared his teeth in what could pass as a smile, “Warming him is what we need.”

“If you think it’s what he needs, do it. I can make him able to move and walk, he’ll be fine until sunset, but I can’t help him after the Sun sets. The dark will be too cold to keep him safe. You have to get him an act of True Love before the sunsets or he’ll be lost. Do you understand?”

“I understand. I’ll have almost 2 full hours. I can get anyone anywhere in Beacon Hills in that time, even in this weather. He will NOT die. I won’t let him. He didn’t let me drown and I’ll be damned if I let him freeze.” Derek stormed out of the room to let Deacon work. 

The emissary smiled gently, a hint of sadness in the smile. If only Derek realized that he was what Stiles needed. But, then again, if he told Derek, there was the chance that the shock of knowing would push them apart, that Derek would be too in denial about Stiles’ feelings to act. Deaton couldn’t risk that. So it looked like he had to get Stiles in fighting shape. Well, walking shape at least. 

\---

“This is ridiculous. Lydia’s not going to go for this. We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t kill me first.” Stiles gritted his teeth. 

“We have to try, Stiles. I’ve seen her look at you with fondness, and everyone knows you’ve been following her like - what did you call Isaac earlier - ah, an overgrown puppy, for years. Years, Stiles. That’s longer than some marriages.” Derek’s own teeth were gritted. He wasn’t sure why he was so mad at the idea of Lydia kissing Stiles, but he was. It felt like he’d lost his anchor. But Stiles needed this, and Stiles would get it. If he had to torture Jackson to death to free up her affections, well... it wouldn’t be the first time he did something unfortunate for a friend.

“I’m willing to try. I am.” Stiles voice faded to a whisper as he spoke. “I should call my dad. Just in case this doesn’t work.” Derek could both see and smell Stiles’ tears. Without his even noticing, he winced.

“Nothing’s going to happen, Stiles. We’ll figure this out. You’ll kiss Lydia and everything will be fine.” Derek saw the look on Stiles’s face pleading, yet openly skeptical. “Fine, call your dad. I’ll be quiet.”

Stiles pulled up his dad’s number, and pressing send, put it to his ear. “Dad? I’m sorry to call you at work, but I just wanted to tell you I love you... I’m fine, Dad, I just have something I’ve got to do and I’m not sure how it’s going to turn out... Yes, I’ll call you as soon as I know... Nothing that serious... Ok, yeah, kind of that serious...” Stiles was silent as Derek heard the Sheriff’s voice over the line ask for him. “I’ll give him the phone.” Stiles held the phone out to Derek helplessly.

Sighing, Derek began, “Yes, Sheriff, I’m afraid it is serious... Of course I’m watching out for him... No, this one’s not my fault, it’s on him... You tell him that, good luck... That’s what I thought... I told you, I’m handling it... He should be fine... One hour, got it... Goodbye, Sheriff.” Derek gave Stiles back the phone.  
 “What did you say! Oh. Ok, I’ll call you in an hour... I love you, too, Dad. Goodbye.” Stiles hung up the phone and turned to Derek. “You told my dad you’d have me fixed in an hour? Are you insane? You’re going to get arrested.”

“No, I’m not, because you’ll be fine. We’re here.” Derek was out of the car and at Stiles’s in seconds. He helped Stiles get out and together they walked to the front door of Lydia’s house. Derek didn’t like the fact that there was now white in Stiles’s short hair, but he kept it to himself. Knocking, he made sure to keep the teen as close as he could to himself. Body heat is best for hypothermia, he told himself. 

“Derek? Stiles? What are you doing here? And who told you to frost your hair? It looks ridiculous. You could have at least told me you were doing it. I’d have helped you do a much better job.” Lydia looked flawless as ever, strawberry blonde hair perfect, dressed in an elegant but relaxed white jacket over a blue shirt and magenta scarf. 

“Scott caused the winter, he’s got some sort of Winter Wolf ice powers. He hit me with a blast of some kind and apparently if I don’t...” Stiles trailed off, half weakness and half embarrassment silencing the normally unstoppable words. 

“Don’t what, Stiles?” Lydia asked. When Stiles remained silent, she turned to Derek. “Don’t what? Answer me!”

“If he doesn’t experience an act of True Love, his heart will freeze at sunset and he’ll die. He needs True Love’s Kiss, and yes I’m aware of how stupid this sounds, but Deaton says it’s true.” Derek pinched the bridge of his news as he reported the insane theory of the emissary. 

“Oh, Stiles, if only someone loved you!” Lydia immediately realized what she said and backpedalled with her typical aplomb, “Not that we don’t all love you, but you know what I mean. This still doesn’t explain why you brought him here... unless... you’ve got to be kidding me.” She turned on Derek with amber eyes glinting with a rage colder than the blizzard outside. “You thought I was his True Love? Are you insane? I’m in love with Jackson, for all his flaws. You don’t think beauty and the snake-monster’s enough fairy tale for anyone? What the hell is wrong with you, Hale?”

“Desperation.” Derek spoke calmly and quietly, unashamed. “I’m desperate. Stiles loves you. That’s obvious to anyone with eyes, so a genius like yourself couldn’t have missed it. You love him, maybe not as a lover or a boyfriend or however you choose to label it, but you do. I have to hope that it’ll be enough to save him, since there’s no one else. And Stiles cannot die. I won’t allow it.” As Lydia stared Derek got up and began to walk to the door. “If you won’t save him, I’ll find another way. Just watch him, okay?”

“Of course I’ll watch him.” Lydia said, watching Derek leave. “Enough of that,” she said to her cursed friend, “get up, Stiles. We have somewhere to go. Now.”

“Where could we go? Why isn’t Derek here? What’s going on?” Stiles was already starting to fade, he could feel it. Damn, the sun sets faster in winter. I’ve probably only got an hour left, tops, Stiles thought, pointedly not thinking about how Scott’s power could affect the schedule of sunset. Magic and logic were not always on speaking terms, Stiles had learned.

“Stop thinking like a future popsicle and start thinking like the man you’ve become, the man who fights monsters. What would you do if a witch cursed Derek?” Lydia had put on an overcoat the same white as her jacket and now reached into her chimney, coming out with a gun in hand. “You’d kill them. If Scott is so far gone that he’s killing you, he’ll either lift the curse or we’ll see if the curse get’s lifted when he dies. Either way... JACKSON!” she shouted up the stairs. The blond jock ran down the stairs at her call. “Watch him, don’t let him wear himself out, or get hurt. I’ll be back soon.”

“Why am I baby-sitting Stilinski?” Jackson asked, confusion and indignation warring over his handsome features. 

“Because I told you to. Because he’s hurt. Because I’m about to make you captain again, not co-captain. Because I’ll do that thing you like with your lacrosse stick. Take your pick, but watch him.” She kissed him on the cheek and chambered a round. “See you soon,” she said as she walked out the door.    
Jackson turned to Stiles, saw him shivering and put a blanket over his shoulders. “Is she really going to kill Scott? Also, what happened to you?”

Stiles got up in response, shrugging off the blanket. “She’s going to try. I’ll explain everything on the way. You’re driving.” 

“Where are we going, or do I need to ask?”

“To save my brother.”

“God, I hate this town. Let’s go.” Jackson sighed. He hated driving his Porsche in the snow. “But I want details.”

\---

Having filled Jackson in on everything that had happened, Stile sat back in his seat, just as they pulled up at Scott’s house. 

“So, why didn’t Derek just kiss you?” Jackson asked, confused. “I mean he’s been carrying a torch for you since his first inappropriate locker room visit. Wouldn’t this be a good time to Prince Charming up?”

“Derek? Love me? Are you insane?” Stiles shivered, got out of the car and started to look for Lydia. He saw her car but hoped she wasn’t inside yet. 

“Wow, you really don’t know anything about love, do you?” Jackson’s tone was utterly dismissive. “Get with the program Stilinski, he’s head over heels for you. Since you’ve obviously got it just as bad for him, I figured you guys were waiting for your 18th to go public, but apparently you’re just both idiots. Great.” Jackson literally shook his head at the idiocy of these two. 

“Jackson, is Derek here? Can you smell him, or sense him or something?” Stiles began to sound desperate. 

“He’s about half a block away and getting closer. He’ll be here in less than a minute. Why?” Jackson paused as Stiles glared. “Really? Now? Like this? Wow, ok. Ok, yep, he’s almost here, like some valiant, pungent werewolf king. What? Dude is fragrant right now.”

“If one more were-anything comments on smelling arousal, I’m stocking up on wolfsbane,” Stiles vowed. “How about Lydia? Where’s she?”

“Oh, I thought you heard her. She’s got her gun currently aimed at Scott. She’s right there,” Jackson gesture to where Stiles could just make out Lydia, Allison and Scott standing on the other side of Lydia’s car. In the heavy snow, Stiles could barely see or hear them. But he could see the gun aimed at Scott and Allison’s weary standing aside, leaving Scott open to the shot. He could also see Derek coming from the other direction, but knew he couldn’t let his brother die. 

“Jackson, throw me over there, now, or so help me God I’ll haunt you for eternity. With all the crazy in this town, do you want to bet on ghosts not being real?” Stiles saw the patterns appear on his hands as he raised them to beg the were-douche. He was about to beg more when he felt the blond’s hands grabbing his hoodie. 

“Good luck, don’t die.” Jackson threw Stiles directly at Lydia. If this goes badly, I’m beyond dead, he thought, but she really shouldn’t try to kill Scott. Jackson had no illusions about where he stood when it came to being an asshole, but he liked to think that, his brief stint as a Kanima aside, he wasn’t a murderer. Neither was Lydia, really, but neither of them had many reservations when it came to protecting their loved ones. 

Unfortunately, Scott had kind of earned a “loved one” place for Jackson, no matter how much he’d rather die than admit it. 

Years of lacrosse and werewolf reflexes had combined in a perfect storm named Jackson Whittemore. Stiles landed right between Lydia and Scott, surprising the redhead enough to fire. The bullet and the magic raced to see which would get to kill Stiles. The magic seemed to win, as Stiles turn to solid ice in the instant as the bullet traveled. In a moment no one would have believed, not even the werewolves, the bullet shattered as it hit Stiles’s icy form, the cold of Scott’s magic too intense for the simple slug to endure. 

Scott broke as quickly as the bullet. “No, Stiles, no!” He leapt and wrapped himself around the other boy, weeping. “No, you can’t be gone, you can’t. You still have to help me. Who else could figure this insanity out? I can’t lose you. I love you,” he sobbed, “you’re my brother. Don’t let me have killed you.” His words drowned as he broke further. There were no words left. 

As his tears landed on Stiles’s frozen skin, color returned. Slowly, like trying to capture a Spring thaw, the frozen skin turned ruddy. Hair returned to it’s natural brown, and Stiles sagged in Scott’s arms. Jackson felt his jaw drop as Derek came to a halt next to him. “An act of True Love,” the boy whispered almost reverently. He turned to Derek and his eyes squinted into a glare. “Tell them I said a word and I’ll get Lydia to kill you.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me. If you’ll excuse me, I have a recently thawed man to either kiss or kill.” Derek walked towards Stiles and Scott who were now laughing, hugging and generally acting like the idiotic fools they were. “I want him in one piece, Scott. Be careful.”

Scott grinned that lopsided grin up at Derek. “Sure thing.” As Stiles looked from one to the other, Scott laughed. “I may be the Alpha, but I’m not stupid enough to get between you two. If he didn’t kill me, you would.” His grin twisted momentarily into a thoughtful look. “Not sure which of you I’m more afraid of in that case. Better not to find out.” 

“If you’re both quite done, I think it’s time you and I discuss a few things, Sourwolf.” Stiles rose, using Scott as a boost. “And Lydia, don’t kill anyone. Everyone’s fine and Scott’s going to be fine too. Just look, it’s not even snowing.” He was right, Derek noticed. The snow had stopped and in fact was melting beneath them. 

“And exactly what are we discussing?” Derek grinned, it was good to have Stiles back and out of danger.

“The fact that you love me and I love you and this whole nightmare could have been avoided if you weren’t so stubborn.” Stiles glared at his new werewolf, “I’m not looking forward to this or anything like it happening again, but I’m also not so stupid as to think things like this don’t happen in this town. Kiss me now and I might just forgive you.”

“Before I happily kiss you, I’d like to point out that I may have been stubborn but you were just dense to not see this before now. I at least was in active denial about my feelings. You seemed to not even noti-” Derek was cut off by Stiles’s lips against his. Well, that’s one way to keep warm, Derek thought as their kiss grew. 

“I fought the law and, uh, the law won! I fought the law and, uh, the law won!” screamed Stiles’s phone. 

“Damn! It’s my dad. I guess I should let him know I’m okay... and maybe not to arrest you.” Stiles stared at his still singing phone.

“Maybe get on that. Now.” Derek winced as Stiles answered.

“Hey dad... Yeah, I’m fine... It’s over, all sorted out... Yeah, it turns out... What?... No details?... Got it... Yeah, he is... Ok, here he is.” Stiles held the phone out to Derek. “He wants to talk to you.”

Looking upward and wondering what he did in a past life to deserve falling in love with Stiles Stilinski, he took the phone. “Hello, Sheriff... Yes, sir... No, sir... Yes, sir... Understood, sir... Somehow I thought as much, sir... thank you, sir... Do you want to.. No?.. Ok, goodbye, sir.” Derek hung up the phone and turned back to Stiles. “I’m invited to dinner tonight. He has a few questions for me. I’ve also been told he grants his blessing and if I ever hurt you in anyway Chris Argent has already given him a few boxes of wolfsbane bullets.”

Stiles laughed. “I’ll make steaks. You’ll get your red meat and Dad’ll be in a good mood when he grills you.”

“By ‘grill’ you mean ask questions, right? Stiles, stop laughing and answer the question! I don’t do fire, you know that!” Derek’s voice had risen from his normal growl to a high tenor by the end of the sentence. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll broil the steaks. And yes, I mean ask questions. How cold do you think I am?”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love and make me happy. Follow me on tumblr: http://pensivemaniac.tumblr.com/


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